For my final bicycle ride of 2010, I wasn't going to suffer on any damn mountain passes in freezing sleet.
This trip was to be the culmination of my yearlong effort to qualify for the little-known but highly coveted R-12 award from Randonneuring USA. The ride began in Tracy, CA on December 5.
For those who have followed my R-12 endeavor, sorry. This blog is about the fun Bob and I had after I got the damn ride over. And yes, I did win the R-12 and as far as I know, I'm the first female in Utah to accomplish this. (To qualify, you have to ride 12 consecutive months of at least one 125-mile daylong ride each month. I will soon have a tiny piece of paper that says I did such a weird thing.)
On Sunday, we drove to Yosemite under bright, sunny skies. I'd never been to Yosemite, and appreciated the drive since all I had to do was sit there. No pedaling.
Our first stop is Bridalveil Falls. This is Bob, just before he took a swan dive into the snow, planting his camera skillfully between his ribs and a rock. The camera is fine and the onlookers enjoyed his cat-like grace.
A nice tourist took the only picture ever captured of the two of us.
A cloudy day in the Park means dull photos. If Bob had captured a photo of the Bobcat he spied, it would have made this blog pretty exciting.
After breezing through Yosemite ("No time to see that view," says Bob, "We need to head back to Torrey." We took Hwy 88 east, over some mountain passes, toward Lake Tahoe. A little snowstorm had gone through the night before, dumping between 8 and 12 inches of snow.
The road was perfectly fine. Bob hoped for a reason to use 4WD, but this wasn't nearly terrifying enough.
Soon, the sun came out and the wind began to blow at gale force.
Suddenly, we came upon this sight. We arrived at the wreck seconds after it happened and the guys were still climbing out of the truck. As Bob slowed to help out, we skidded on the glare ice and I feared we'd end up in the opposite ditch.
No one was hurt, so we turned around to flag down the Sheriff we'd passed a couple miles back and get a tow truck on the way. But the Sheriff was already on his way to the wreck so our help wasn't needed. On the second pass, I took this photo. About 30 minutes later we saw the tow truck headed up the mountain.
I got creative and hung my camera out the window, taking this beautiful shot I call "roof reflection". Who needs a still pond?
Not much happened again until we arrive in Delta. The city park is decked out with a million lights.
I think Bob's front yard would look nice with some Christmas lights. I'm sure the deer would appreciate the festive atmosphere while they finish off what's left of the garden, Bob's small pine trees and the snowball bush. But despite the deer problem, it's nice to be home in red rock country, near the Fremont River.
John C. Fremont, of course, had already been here, and there. We found this sign along the road into Yosemite. Fremont sure got around.
